Thomas, who held Ash in his arms, was flanked by frost household guards on all sides as they made their way through the tunnels.
They moved quickly yet stealthily through the narrow hallways, their forms barely visible due to the dim lighting.
Turning a corner, Thomas signaled the group to halt.
He handed Ash to a guard with sharp blue eyes and adjusted his clothes.
Without a word Thomas stepped forward into the open, his expression calm, a false smile on his face.
"Halt! What are you doing here?" One of the checkpoint guards barked, his weapon raised.
"My name is Thomas,' he began, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. ""I'm one of the guards from the Fro-" before he finished Thomas lunged.
His arms darted to the dagger he'd taken from the assassin's, and in a single motion he buried it in the man's throat.
The guard behind him froze, watching his comrade drop, the sounds of him coming on his own blood reverberating in the narrow hallway.
Snapping out of his shock, he barely had time to react before Thomas closed the distance, his blade slicing across his neck.
Just like that he had joined his down comrade.
The remaining two guards, realising their assault rifles won't save them in such close quarters, drew their daggers.
Instead of charging forward like he did before, Thomas stood his ground, reading their movements.
The guards mistaking his choice for hesitation advanced, trying to box him in slowly.
Thomas backed away, leading them towards the turn in the corridor.
The guards followed, their confidence rising with every step as they thought they had him cornered.
Seeing their expressions, Thomas sneered inwardly.
Greenhorn's
If they were a bit experienced, they would have radioed for backup, but from their actions Thomas knew these were soldiers who had not been put in this situation before.
Thomas rounded the corner pretending to run, forcing the soldiers to drop their stance and chase after him.
They rounded the corner, expecting to see Thomas running away, but wee instead met with the already waiting arms of the frost guards.
Silent and efficient, the frost guards struck. Daggers slid into flesh, hands covered their mouths to muffle their screams.
As the soldiers bodies crumpled to the ground, their eyes were filled with disbelief.
Thomas eyed the now dead soldier's pity and disdain in his gaze.
This was the difference between an experienced personnel and a greenhorn.
"Arm yourselves" Thomas ordered, taking back Ash as his team collected weapons from the now downed guards.
With weapons in their arms and the smell of blood now stinking up the place they continued on their way.
They continued to silence various patrols and checkpoints, using different strategies and techniques, while also avoiding trouble if they could.
The pattern repeated until the blaring of alarms shattered their progress .
"They know we're escaping!" Someone hissed.
Thomas heart raced as he yelled "move! We're close to the exit!"
He knew this moment was coming, and was even glad it took this long before they detected their activities.
The group sprinted down the corridor. Behind them, the sound of approaching voices grew louder.
Thomas seeing no other way barked orders: "Sparrow, Fox, guard the rear. Hold them off!"
Without hesitation, the two mentioned guards, fox and sparrow peeled away from the group, taking up defensive positions to face the oncoming threat.
They knew what that order meant for them, but they had zero regrets in their hearts.
---
Sparrow law prone on the cold concrete ground, his M4 aimed at the corridor. His sharp eyes tracked the flickering shadows ahead.
As he waited, he eyed his muscular compatriot beside him and joked.
"Look who decided to grow some balls."
Fox chuckled his voice light and hearty.
"What about you? If you run now, you might just make it back to the group."
Sparrow just shook his head, not willing to entertain the friendly banter anymore.
"You know I can't do that... We owe it to the master"
Their conversation although grim, created a spa e where they could be happy for protecting their lord's child to their last breaths.
---
The sound of gunshots rang clearly, reaching the fleeing group. They all knew what those sounds meant for the two brothers they had left.
They all made silent prayers for their brother's to at least reach their happy places as they continued on their way.
Thomas cradling Ash in his arms, led the group through the winding tunnels. The frost guards flanking on both sides, their faces tense.
The blaring alarms overhead, mixed with the ringing gunshots only served to heighten telhejr urgency.
Ahead Kay the iron gate-their only exit. But as they rounded the final turn, Thomas heart sank.
Guards stood stationed at the gate, their weapons raised and ready.
"Take them out" he ordered, his voice lkw but firm.
The frost guards sprang into action, their experience showing in their swift, coordinated assault.
Gunfire erupted, cutting through the stillness of the corridor. The stationed guards barely had time to react as the frost team overwh6thsm.
Within moments, the iron gate was clear.
"Get it open!" Thomas barked.
Two guards rushed forward, their impressive physiques put to the test. Using all their strengths, the iron gate slowly gave way.
Cold wind seeped in from the cracks the open door made, stinging their faces as the night air greeted them.
Here's how Suggestions 1 (improving dialogue flow) and 2 (adding depth to the remaining Frost guards) could be integrated into the chapter:
Finally, they stumbled out into the open. The group froze, their breaths visible in the frigid air.
Snow was falling—soft, silent, and impossible.
"It's snowing?" one guard whispered, disbelief in his voice.
"But... it's not the season," another added, his eyes scanning the white-dusted ground.
For a moment, the surreal sight of snow in an otherwise mild season held them captive.
The flakes fell steadily, coating the frozen earth in a pristine blanket. It wasn't just the snow itself that was unsettling; it was the unnatural stillness of the air, the way the cold seemed to seep deeper into their bones than it should.
Thomas shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze. "Move! It doesn't matter. We need to go!"
The guards snapped to attention, but the unease lingered in their expressions. They bolted forward, crunching through the snow. The biting wind chased them, as if the weather itself was hunting them.
Behind them, the sound of shouting and flashlights slicing through the darkness reached their ears.
"They're catching up," one guard said, his voice tight.
Thomas halted, his heart sinking as he turned to the remaining Frost guards. He could see the same resolve in their eyes that Sparrow and Fox had shown earlier.
One of the guards stepped forward, his weapon raised. "We'll hold them off."
Thomas's grip on Ash tightened. "You'll die."
The guard gave a grim smile. "We know. But the young master needs to survive. That's what matters."
Another guard, a wiry man with a scar cutting across his cheek, nodded. "They saved us. All of us. It's time we pay them back."
Thomas scanned their faces, reading their unwavering determination.
Each of them had a story—just like Sparrow and Fox. One guard had been freed from a life of slavery in the mines, another rescued from a city destroyed by war.
These were men who had already been given a second chance at life, and now they were determined to ensure Ash had the same.
"We'll buy you time," one said, his voice steady.
Thomas hesitated, his chest tight. He knew there was no other choice. His voice dropped, filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you."
One by one, the guards stepped forward, forming a line between Thomas and the advancing enemy.
"Go!" one shouted.
Thomas nodded, a silent promise to honor their sacrifice. Without another word, he turned and ran, Ash cradled tightly in his arms.
The snow crunched beneath his boots as he sprinted into the forest. The cold wind bit at his face, and the weight of Ash in his arms grew heavier with each step. But he didn't stop.
Behind him, the sound of gunfire echoed through the trees. The Frost guards were fighting with everything they had, holding the enemy at bay.